Don't Leave Again
by addictivetendency
Summary: Okita reflects after a break-up.


**It's a bit sloppy because it was rushed. I'm panicking because I'm starting school in a few weeks and I might not be able to post frequently *sobs***

The smell of cigarettes and alcohol stung his nose. He didn't smoke, he only drinks, yet he has to endure the foul smell because he needs the company right now. Unfortunately, that company is hell-bent on having lung cancer.

The smoke from his seatmate blurs his vision of the red walls and the peach-hued lights of the bar. He doesn't complain, though. In fact, he welcomes it. It also helped that there were more people in this bar than the other ones he went to. The sound of the chatters and the clanking of beer glasses occupied his mind from the reason he was sitting here, tolerating Hijikata's cigarettes.

Okita closes his eyes and leans his head on the backrest. Although he doesn't want to, his mind drifts to the image of a certain girl. He vividly sees the exact shade of red her hair had and he remembers how easily those locks slipped through his fingers. Seeing her long hair cascading down on her dress, he remembers the rough texture of her clothes whenever his skin collided with it. Underneath the dress was the porcelain-like skin he loved so much, especially when her lovely dress would slip off of it so easily.

He smiles, unconsciously. It didn't matter that two months has passed, he had already memorized everything about her. Even without actually touching her, he remembers just how soft her skin was or just how much fat she had or did not have in her body. He could still remember the smell she gave off; playing between the smell of strawberries or sukonbu. He sounded like a stalker. Well, he might as well be one with all the useless information he had about her.

Hijikata says something, maybe about the comfort room, and he just nods. He hated how one woman was taking such a toll on him; making him tolerate his superior's presence when, before, he didn't really liked being with the Vice Commander. Well, to be fair, she wasn't just any woman. She was _his_ China. Well, _was_. His hand quivered at the word. Whatever he and his China had, it was no more.

He accepted, after some time, that it was his fault. He hadn't noticed that their relationship was growing colder and now he had to face the consequences. He didn't know where, when, or how, but at some point, it just did. He hadn't noticed that her kisses were a bit lonelier, that their meetings became less frequent, and how everything just became so cold. Before he even realized it, she was sitting in front of him, eyes averting his gaze, and was calling off their relationship. He didn't really listen to anything else she said, everything became muffled. All he could think of was their time together, as if he was dying and his life was flashing before his eyes. His life that consisted of her.

He didn't break down in tears, begging her to stay nor did he lash out in anger. He simply stood up and headed for the _engawa_. He just stood there as she gave her leave. Even now, the mere memory of it all was still making him feel… devastated.

It didn't help his situation either when he saw her, one day, walking her usual route with someone else. Although it was obvious the interest was one-sided between the stranger and his China, it didn't stop him from throwing a tantrum when he got back to the compound. He hated her at that time. How could she have found someone else to replace him while he was still a disaster because of her? He couldn't even think of any revenge plans to get back at her, all he could think of was that _stranger_ , loving her in his stead.

Everything was such a mess. He couldn't sleep because he knows he'll dream of her. And his patrols were all an excuse just to check up on her. Everything was about her. It was so unthinkable that the feared swordsman of the Shinsengumi was reduced to a pathetic, dependent man just because of her while she was fine even without him. There were no dark circles under her eyes, just like his, and she seemed much more radiant and beautiful than he last remembered. Or maybe he was just appreciating her more now that they weren't together.

Hijikata came back, saying that they should go home before Okita gets drunk to the point of not being able to walk home.

"You go ahead, Hijikata-san. I'll find my way home." The captain said. Although reluctant, the Vice Commander agreed. After all, Okita was old enough to clean any mess he might get into while drunk.

* * *

Once his superior left he stepped out of the bar, drenched in the different lights of the Red Light District. There were a lot of people outside as well and, because he might've been already drunk, the people started to mix with the lights and he couldn't distinguish anything anymore.

With difficulty, he manages to bring one foot in front of the other. He bumps into a few people and he doesn't apologize. He just gives them a deadly glare and the people would run away. He didn't really want to deal with anyone at the moment, even if it was his fault. And, with solitude in mind, the captain goes on, aimlessly walking around.

He hears boisterous laughter coming from a nearby bar. He tries to look at it but the lights coming from the doors were so blinding. _What could be so funny?_ He walks further, oddly intrigued by the happiness he hears, only to be stopped by an equally welcomed and unwelcomed image.

He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating just because he had reflected on their relationship earlier. But the red hair and that familiar dress screamed that she was real. Who else could be wearing such an attire as if it was normal?

He shouldn't come up to her. She had already cut her ties with him, she wouldn't have any more reason to do anything with him. But his body was not listening to the voice of reason. He was so powerless against her. He was so weak, he thought, that even if she became an enemy one day, he wouldn't hesitate to give up in battle if she asked for it. She already saw him because he noticed her eyes became a bit wider.

Maybe it was the alcohol working but he soon found himself kneeling in front of her, hugging her waist tightly while his face was against her stomach.

"Hey, stop it!" she hissed as she tried to remove him from her. "People are staring, stop it, now." She struggled against his embrace but gave up when he just held her even tighter.

"No," he murmured against her stomach. "Anything else, but not this." He reveled the opportunity to be close to her again. He didn't care how he looked to other people. If this was the one thing that could keep him sane, he'll do it even at the cost of his reputation. Maybe if she saw how much of a mess he was, she'd come back. She was so much more important than a silly image, after all.

"Please," she whispered. "Stop this. Let go."

If it was possible for his heart to be crushed even further, then that's what he felt upon hearing those words. He looks up to see that her face was staring somewhere else. _Why?_ Does she not love him anymore? Was it possible that only he was affected by this break up? He scrambles up to his feet and cups her cheeks with his hands.

"Do you really want me to let go?" he asks as he touches his forehead with hers. He prays to every god he knew that she would say no. He would die if she agreed. Her lovely eyes answered him by staring back. She looks a bit confused, he thought. Surely she doesn't have it in her to forget him that easily? He inched his face closer so that their lips were brushing against each other when he spoke, "Is this what you really want?"

His heart raced when her hands reached for his. At first he thought she was going to move them away. But, to his surprise, she held on to them and leaned in to kiss him.

His initial response was to kiss her back, hungrily. His right hand moved from her cheek to the small of her back, pulling her as close as possible. Were their kisses as sweet as this one? He couldn't remember. Suddenly, he registers a salty taste. He breaks their kiss to see that she was crying.

He plants a kiss on her eye lid, "Don't cry, stupid."

She doesn't respond, nor does she stop crying. The Yato hugs him so tight that he thinks she'll break his spine if she gets upset. Well, he'd gladly let her. What was a broken spine compared to the happiness he feels right now? "Just don't leave again."

 **END**

 **I won't be writing a Kagura POV. They say it's better to leave the imagination to the readers? *smiley face***


End file.
